CHAPTER XIII.
WINGS AND STINGS.
IT is now time that I should draw my tale to a close; but as my reader may like to know what became of the little people, with wings and without wings, that we have followed through this story, I shall give a few more pages to an account of their fate.
The first sunbeam which shone the next morning upon the hive, glittered on Silverwing, as with joyous speed she hastened back to her home. She continued there her busy and her happy life, finding sweetness everywhere, honey in each flower, and cheering the less joyous existence of Sipsyrup, whose wing never quite recovered its power. As the injured bee was unable to fly out with the next swarm, her friend remained behind to bear her company: they passed the summer days in active employ and the winter in plenty and repose.
SILVERWING AND SIPSYRUP.
I have a less pleasing account to give of Waxywill, who was certainly a most wayward bee. She chose to go out honey-seeking one day, when required for work in the hive; she resolved, contrary to orders, to visit the dwelling of a humble-bee, and because she knew that her cousins of that race live underground, against the warnings of her companions she entered a little hole in a bank, and found herself in the midst of a nest of wasps! Her melancholy fate may easily be imagined; she died beneath the stings of her enemies.